Trouble at the Tea Shop
by Lou Buggins
Summary: A bbrae, slow-burn, AU. Just your stereotypically costumer and barista love story. Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

Rachael Roth was a very busy young lady. Between her part-time retail job, earning her bachelors degree in journalism, and interning at a local news network, she rarely had time for pleasantries. A quick nod of her head and maybe a muffled "thank you," "please," or "excuse me," when necessary. That was the extent of her politeness. It wasn't that she was rude. She just didn't have the time nor the courage to engage with other people beyond that point.

It was only between the hours of 2 and 6 on Thursday's that she had any free time. She reserved that time for some much needed pleasure reading. Books were the current love of her life, and not even a hectic schedule would keep them from her. Normally, she would spend this special time at the nearby Starbucks. However, she had heard a lot of positive talk concerning a new, locally owned café. It was a little farther away from the studio she worked at than Starbucks, but she was in the rare mood for a change in scenery.

When she entered quaint café, she was instantly hit with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and tea. She was expecting a newer place like this to have a modern look, but she couldn't have been more wrong. It had old brick walls, with paintings of varies locations around France. They whole thing was decorated to look like a traditional, French café. There was a wooden counter with a vintage cash register, and a glass cabinet filled with homemade French pastries. Behind the counter were different types of appliances, all appearing to be old collectibles. The whole place looked like one large antique.

She was amazed to say the least. The coffee shop gave off a peaceful ambiance, that made her feel comfortable and secure. It was a perfect place for a cup of tea and a book.

When she approached the counter, the costumer in front of her had already left with her order, so Rachael was able to step right up to the register. On the other side of the counter was a slightly taller young man, who was lean but showed some muscling underneath his long sleeve brown shirt. His skin was lightly tanned and his hair was a shaggy, dirty-blonde. His eyes were a deep, ocean-like blue, and on his cheeks were a light dusting of freckles. He has many cute and desirable features, but none compared to his larger-than-life smile.

When that smile met her, and an overly-kind welcome fell out of it, she simply gave him a polite nod. The boy seemed bit surprised at her curt gesture, but he quickly recovered. Rachael glanced up at the menu that hung on the back wall, giving it one quick look-over, before turning back to the young man.

"I'll just have a cup of your English Breakfast, please." She ordered before breaking away from his stare and looking into her purse to pull out her debit card.

The man nodded his head a pushed a few buttons on the register. "Would you like to add any sugar or cream into that?" He asked her with a strange sense of enthusiasm.

She thought his question over for a moment.

"Half a teaspoon of honey would be nice." She requested. The way the man's smile fell and the worry in his eyes was both oddly amusing and annoying.

"I'm so sorry ma'am, but we don't have honey here." He explained sadly. He seemed more disappointed then she was.

"You don't have honey?" She questioned him with a raised eyebrow.

"No ma'am." He shook his head.

"But you're a tea shop?" She pressed.

"Well technically, I'm a person, and we serve coffee and pastries too."

His attempt at a joke fell short on her. Instead, she took it as more of a jab and it only riled her up more. "A café should have honey. What kind of café doesn't?"

"This kind." He deadpanned. This time his smile was replaced with a delighted smirk, which made the women want to slap it right off of him. She was normally a very mellow person, but something about this guy just really ruffled her feathers.

"Fine." She growled. "Just give me my tea."

The man practically skipped to the back and began filling a ceramic cup with boiling water. Rachael tapped her foot as she waited for the man to come back with her drink. He returned with a cup filled with brown liquid and a water saucer. He sat both on top of the counter and announced her price.

"That will be $1.50 please."

Rachael rolled her eyes at him, but handed him her card. Another fit of rage flashed in her eyes when he didn't make a move to take it.

"Well?" She asked as she waved her card in the air.

"Oh, we don't accept cards, in case the dinosaur in between use wasn't enough to figure that one out." Again he tried to joke, and he even laughed at himself, but it once again just fueled her inner fire.

"What do you mean you don't take cards?" She shouted this time. Everyone in the small shop, including those forming a short line behind her, stared worriedly at her. Mortified at her own outburst and the attention it was receiving, she quickly put away her card and pulled out two dollar bills. She practically throw the money at him. She waited while he happily opened the register and pulled out two quarters. He handed her the change, but not before giving her a playful wink. She belched at him in disgust before depositing her change into her purse and taking her tea over to the farthest corner of the shop.

She sat down in the fancy, red-felted chairs and made herself at home with her tea and a book. She couldn't shake off the feeling of being watched, but every time she looked up, she only saw costumers entering or leaving the shop and the irritating barista was staying busy serving them. So she blamed the feeling on the man that had caused her to make a scene and continued back to her story.

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 **Author's Notes: Hope y'all like this! If I get some reviews I'll post part two!**


	2. Chapter 2

A week later, Rachael found herself wondering into the safe café as last week. Besides the lack of honey, credit card readers, and hospitality, the shop was really rather nice. Due to its small size, not many people hung around inside. Those who did, chatted quietly. Plus, the spot she sat in the other day, was perfectly located behind part of the brick wall. Almost like a secret hiding place that separated her from the rest of the café. So, after much deliberation, she decided the pros out weighed the cons.

She enter the shop and was annoyed to find the same barista standing behind the register. He greeted her with the same full-hearted smile that he used on her last time she entered the shop. This time, however, instead of returning the greeting with a polite nod, she scowled at him with her violet eyes. She swore he only grinned more.

"So I take it you enjoyed your tea last time, even without the honey." He quipped, earning him another glare by the black-haired, petite women.

"Actually, it was quite bitter." She spat at him as she slammed her purse down on the counter, making him jump. "Luckily, I can handle a little bitter." She said with a smug grin.

The man snorted at her, clearly upset that she had scared him so easily. "Same as last time, then?" He asked with a huff.

"Yes, please." She replied, a little too sweetly than she was used to. She watched as he went to the back and began using the machine to pour the hot water into a cup. She noticed him grumbling to himself and couldn't help, but feel proud of herself for getting under his skin. He did it to her last time, it was only fair she return that favor.

He came back to her carrying her tea in the same ceramic cup and saucer she was given during her last visit. He pushed a few buttons into the old register and mumbled, "That'll be $1.50."

With a nod of her head, she reached into her purse and dug out two dollar bills.

"Here you go." She said as she handed him the money. He snatched it out of her hand and with the push of another button, opened the cash register and deposited the money.

She wasn't sure where this mood came from. Behaving like this was not like her. Allowing someone to affect her the way he did was not like her. Yet, here she was, playing at his own game.

"Your change, ma'am."

The sound of his usual, cheery voice broke her thoughts. She peered down at his extended hand, wondering why his mood had changed so quickly. Then she noticed it. The change. Instead of giving her two quarters back, he had handed her five dimes.

"What's this?" She questioned as she pointed to his opened hand.

His smirk widened. "Your change."

Her eyes narrowed at him. She knew what he was trying to do, and this time, she would not fall for it. She reached over and scooped the change out of his palm. A strange feeling creeped into her stomach when there hands touched, but she brushed it off.

"If that's your attempt at bothering me, you're going to have to try harder." She commented as she put the change into her purse and grabbed her tea.

"Challenge accepted." He grinned and again gave her a playful wink. She rolled her eyes at him and went on her way.

She came back to the shop the following week. This time she was greeted with a mischievous smile. Raising an eye brow, Rachael cautiously stepped up to the counter.

"My usual please." She said in her normal, monotone voice. She had given it some thought, and chose to cut the man some slack this time.

"Sure thing, ma'am!" He said in his usual cheery voice. He went to the back and began making her tea. After a minute passed, he came back carrying her usual English Breakfast tea. He sat it on the counter and began punching in the price.

"$1.50." Before he could finish she had the cash in hand. She handed him the money, which he gladly accepted. She looked off to the side, studying the front window, as he pulled out her change.

"Your change, ma'am!" He stated, change in hand.

She looked down and found her change, this time in ten 5-cent nickels. She looked up at him with a glare while he just smiled wider at her.

This continued on for a while. Each time she entered the café, he would find a different way to give her back her fifty-cents. She could even feel her purse start to weigh on her shoulder more due to the increase in cent pieces. She wanted so badly to curse at him. To slap the change out of hand and tell him what for, but she knew better. Reacting would only give him exactly what he wanted, so instead she forced herself to do the opposite. She stayed completely emotionless. No smile, no change in voice, not even so much as a nod. She would enter the shop, he would bring her tea, she would hand over her money, and finally he would give her a new combination of her change. Each time they would both grew more annoyed with one another.

It was only a matter of time before one of them snapped.

"Welcome back, ma'am! Your usual?" He asked, but was already in the back making her tea. During these brief moments, Rachael had found herself studying the man with great concentration. She didn't know why she had taken such an interest in him, but she had and she soon learned much about him. Like how his name tag had the name Logan written on it with a paw print drawn next to it, or how he often hummed to himself as he worked. Little details like this seemed to file themselves into her mind without her taking much notice until they randomly opened themselves up while she was showering, laying in bed, or listening to a class lecture.

He came back with her tea, and he went through the normal routine. When it came to distributing her change, she mentally prepared herself for whatever odd combination he thought of next. Suddenly her outreached hand became very heavy. Looking down, she stared at the pile of copper colored coins.

She gapped at the pile for a moment, and all her hard work to stay calm flew right out the window as her newfound rage consumed her.

"Are. You. Kidding. Me." She said slowing as her eyes turned to daggers.

"What? Did I forget one?" He joked as he examined her hand, pretending to count the pennies.

With a growl, she grasped the pennies and flung them out him. He raised his hands like a shield as the pennies came flying at him. The sound of metal hitting metal sounded throughout the small café as the pennies hit the brewing machines. The whole café fell into a dead silence and all eyes landed on the pair.

"Have fun in hell, you jerk!" She screeched as she spun on her heel and stormed out of the shop, leaving her steaming tea and a completely baffled barista behind.

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 **Author's Notes: Nicely done gang! 4 reviews! Love it! Keep reviewing, and I'll keep updating. Until next time! - LB**


	3. Chapter 3

For the next 48 hours, Rachael's treacherous mind tortured her by playing her meltdown at the café on a loop. She couldn't stop imagining the hundreds of different scenarios that could have taken place. Some had her behaving nicer, while some had her acting worse. She even had a dream last night of the man chasing out of the tea shop, begging for her forgiveness, and proclaiming his undying love for her. She blamed the last part of her dream on her hormones.

It was Saturday, and on Saturday's Rachael worked retail. She absolutely loathed the job, but she needed the money, and the department store chain was the only place that would hire her when she first moved to Jump City for school. As one can easily tell from her dealings with the barista, she did not handle human interaction well. Her main task at the store, was to man the fitting rooms in the women's department. It was probably the best job for her at a place like this, as it required the least amount of "people skills." All she had to do was ask the costumers how many articles of clothing they were trying on, then lead them to their changing room. Simple enough.

About every half hour or so, she would have to check the changing rooms for any clothing that had been left behind. She would gather them all up and go return them to their proper racks. This was her favorite part, because it meant no interaction at all. Unless, of course, a confused customer happens to notice you. Then your screwed.

"Hello? Ma'am? Do you work here?" A shrill voice of an older women interrupted Rachael's hanging. She looked up at the women, who towered over her 5-foot body. The women looked like she had a lot of work done to her face and breasts, as both appeared to be unnatural. She was also dressed like a floosy, but then again, Rachael wasn't here to judge stupid people.

Rachael glanced down at her name tag and red vest that had the store's name and logo plastered on it, then looked back up at the women. "Why yes ma'am, it looks like I do." She deadpanned. The women obviously didn't pick up on Rachael's sarcasm.

"Great! Can you tell me where the ice is?"

Rachael blinked at her. _"Did she really just ask where the ice is?"_ She thought. "Um, I'm sorry ma'am, but we don't sell ice here."

It was a simple statement, but apparently, Rachael had just stepped on a very sensitive nerve. "You don't sell ice!" The women cried, throwing her arms in the air. "What do you mean you don't sell ice?"

"Look ma'am, I'm sorry, but this is a department store. We don't sell ice here." Rachael tried to calm the hysteric women, but she was already storming off.

"I'm going to talk with your manager! No ice. That's the stupidest thing I have every heard!" She complained as her large heels clicked away.

Rachael let out an exhausted sigh and went back to her work. "How annoying. Don't people understand that employees can't control what a store sells." She mumbled under her breath. Suddenly, a light bulb turned on in her head, and she froze in place.

"Oh no." She whispered as the memory of her first encounter with the man at the tea shop played back in her mind. "It was my fault."

Rachael threw the remainder of the clothing on top of the closest rack and ran to the back of the store. She passed through the door that was labeled "employees only" and went straight to the break room, where her purse waited for her in her locker. She grabbed her purse, passed the store manager's office, and called out to him.

"Bye Glenn! I'm going on my lunch break!"

"Okay, Ms. Roth! Have a nice lunch!" The manager called back from his office. Rachael nodded her head and rushed out of the store.

She had to run 5 blocks in heels, but she eventually made it to the familiar brick shop. She stopped in front of the café to catch her breath. Once she had collected herself, she brushed down her black, knee-length skirt and entered the café. Sure enough, the man that her plagued her thoughts the past couple of days was standing behind the counter. He wasn't watching the front door, however. Instead, he had his back facing her while he was cleaning some dishes in the back.

"Welcome to Dayton Café. I'll be with you in a moment." He called over his shoulder, not noticing who had walked in. His voice wasn't its cheery self either. It sounded like a forced politeness, something that was supposed to come from her, not him. She wondered if his depressed mood had anything to do with their little spat a few days ago. She walked up to the counter, and while her eyes bounced around the antique tea shop, she noticed for the first time, a little clear jar with a small strip of white paper tapped on the front of it, labeled "tips."

"So, what will it…" His sentence died on his lips when he finally looked up. When their eyes met, they both forgot how to speak. Rachael felt that weird feeling in her stomach return in full force this time. Her mouth became dry, but the rest of her body began to sweat nervously. She tried in vain to fight the blush that was creeping onto her pale cheeks.

"Hello Logan." She was the first to recover. The man shook his head lightly before walking up to the register.

"Uh…Hi there…um…."

"Rachael." She offered, giving him a small smile.

"Rachael." He breathed out. He stared at her for a moment, making her feel a bit uncomfortable. She shifted her weight and cleared her throat, bring his attention back to Earth.

"Yes, um, I just…. I wanted to apologize…for the other day." She apologized gracelessly. "My behavior was…unbecoming of me. I believe we started off on the wrong foot, and I was hoping we could try again." She looked away at him, focusing on the wooden floor. There was an awkward pause between them, and Rachael was beginning to worry he wouldn't forgive her.

"I'd like that, Rachael." He said her name like he was tasting something sweet for the first time. She looked up at him and noticed his over-sized smile had returned to his face. His eyes even had their normal, delighted sparkle back. "Would you like your usual?" He asked her happily.

"Oh um…yes please, but I'll have it to go. I'm on my lunch break right now." She explained.

"Oh okay! Sure thing!" He said as he moved to the back and pulled out a thick, paper cup, and began filling it with the boiling water.

"So where do you work?" He asked kindly, looking at her over his shoulder.

The question took her by surprise. "Oh uh…Lou's Department Store on 27th street." She stated casually.

"27th street, huh? You must get a lot of white collars up there."

She tilted her head curiously. "White collars?"

"Yeah, you know, wealthy folks that don't mind spending twice the value of stuff."

Again, she found herself becoming heated at this man for no rational reason. She hated where she worked, and yet she still found herself trying to defend it.

"Our prices are not overpriced." She retorted.

He openly laughed at her as he placed a lid over her cup. "Sure, they are! Last time I was in there, I saw a shirt that was going for twice what Ollie's Bargain Outlet was selling it for! Those fancy stores are always charging more than what their products are worth."

The anger that was bubbling up inside her mysteriously deflated as she studied him oddly for a moment. "You've been to Lou's?" She accused him more than questioned.

He scoffed at her. "Of course, I've been to Lou's. It's a nice store."

Her mouth hung open as she looked at him, flabbergasted. "But you were just bad-mouthing it 10 seconds ago! You called it a bad store!"

He smirked that mischievous little smirk of his as he carried her cup to the counter. "I never said it was a bad store. I said their products are over-priced. That doesn't mean the store itself is bad." He punched in the amount for the tea into the register. "Now that will be $1.50, Rachael."

She truly didn't know what to think. Here was a this strange, overly-enthusiastic guy who could push her buttons without even trying. He was just a barista for crying out loud! Why did she let him bother her so?

"Here." She said with a huff as she handed him her payment. This time, having exact change.

"Well look who's learning!" He laughed as he took the money and placed it into the machine.

Her lips quivered ever so slightly. She had to swallow down the giggle that was rising in her throat. Why the heck did he have to be so gash darn funny?

She took her cup of tea, and began to walk out of the shop, before she stopped and turned back to him. "Almost forgot!" She announced as she came back over to the counter. Logan stared at her confused.

"What'd you forget?" He asked.

"Your tip." She replied sweetly as she opened her purse, pulled out her wallet and dumped all the change she had accumulated into the little, glass tip jar. The sound of metal hitting glass filled the café and bystanders peered over to watched the scene unfold. Once the last coin dropped into the jar with a "clang," she zipped up her wallet and stuffed in back into her purse. "Have a nice day!" She said innocently and rushed out of the café. Logan just stared dumbfounded at the now full tip jar, still trying to decide if he should feel pleased at the generous tip, or annoyed that he would have to spend a good ten minutes counting it all.

Yep. She was definitely learning.

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 **Author's Notes: Wow! Three chapters in less than 24 hours! I'm on a roll! Thank you all who reviewed! Please keep it up! I love the feedback and it encourages me to continue with this story. Thanks y'all! - LB**


	4. Chapter 4

After their little spat had passed, the two had actually begun to somewhat enjoy each other's presence. Rachael began to make a habit of coming into the shop whenever she could. Rather it be during her lunch break at work, a coffee run for those at her internship, or for some much needed study time. She told herself it was because of the calming atmosphere and good tea, and not at all anything to do with a certain blonde-haired barista.

The change fiasco had long passed as well. Mainly, because she made sure she always had the exact amount of money owed. So naturally they had to find other ways to bother each other, and this time, it was Logan who initiated it.

It stared on a day when she came in during her lunch break. Since she only had 20 minutes to eat and get back to work, she had to have her order to-go. She had just started coming into the café during her lunch hour, and the young man had begun noticing an incredibly horrifying fact about the women. She didn't eat. Every time she came into the shop, she'd order the same bitter tea and that was all. Normally, it would not have bothered him as much as it did, but this was the women's lunch break for crying out loud! Certainly, she would want to order a pastry to satisfy her hunger.

When he first brought the issue up, she simply shrugged it off stating, "I'm not much of an eater." Her thin waist was proof of that. However, her answer did nothing to satisfy his concern. He spent a lot of time mulling the issue over, and never held back his need to pester the poor girl about it since. When he finally had enough of her strange eating habits (or lack there of), he decided to take matters into his own hands.

"Here." He said, handing her a little brown bag, neatly folded at the top. She stared at the bag like it was a foreign object.

"What's this?" She questioned.

"Call it an early birthday present." He shrugged.

Narrowing her eyes at him, she tentatively took the small bag from his hand. Curious, she cautiously peeled back the top and peered inside. Her eyes widened comically as she began to register what he was doing exactly.

"Logan, I can't except this. I didn't pay for it." She protested and tried to shove the bag back to him, but he folding his arms and shook his head.

"I told you, it's on the house. Call it a gift if you want, but I'm not taking it back."

She stared at him curiously, and the intensity of her stare unnerved him a bit. He felt like she was reading his mind or peering into his very soul. Finally, she broke her silent stare. "But...why?"

"Because," He stated flatly. "I'm tired of you starving yourself. I never see you eat, like ever. And I may not be a scientist, but I do know that all animals, including moody workaholics are supposed to eat."

She glared at him now, slightly offended by the adjectives he used to describe her. "First of all," she raised her pointer finger. "I'm neither moody nor a workaholic. I simply have little time for nonsense and stupidity. Second of all," she raised her middle finger, "I do eat. Just not constantly like you seem to want me to."

The man scoffed at that. "I don't want you to eat constantly! I'd just feel better if you'd eat something every now and then."

"And why exactly do you care so much about my eating habits?"

She got him there. Suddenly, an embarrassing red blush creeped up his freckled cheeks and he began to choke on his own words.

"I...er...I don't...well I mean...I...um..." He babbled on, clearly flustered at her question.

Rachael was quite amused to say the least. It wasn't often she was able to make the man speechless, but when she did she treasured every second of it. With a sinister grin, she collected her tea and bag and leaned over the counter, her face only inches away from his.

"If I didn't know better, Logan, I'd say you might just have a little crush on me." She whispered in a low, seductive voice that only he had the unfortunate pleasure of hearing.

His face become an even darker shade of red, if that was even possible. His whole body seemed to sweat as his blood rushed to certain areas he was not comfortable admitting. His brain seemed to forget how to function as he watched her lean back off the counter and sway her hips towards the door. She turned to him, thanked him for the complimentary muffin, then with a flirtatious wink she walked out the door.

That day definitely left its mark in his memory. He knew he had to get back at her some how, the question was what could he do to make her just a flustered as she had done to him. Unfortunately, he came up short on ideas.

She came in the next day, during her lunch break, and ordered her usual hot tea. She didn't mention their conversation from yesterday, but the unwavering smirk plastered on her face told him she had not forgotten the embarrassing moment. It was only a matter of time before she decided to tease him more about it. He certainly would not had just let it go had the roles been reversed.

Logan went to the back counter, and began preparing her tea. It was a pretty simple recipe. Push a button, fill the cup with hot water, then add in the tea bag. Since she had to get going, he made the tea in a paper cup. Once he was finished, he added the lid on top and began walking it over to the dark haired beauty waiting at the register. He took about two steps before he abruptly turned back around and grabbed a permanent marker from the back counter.

"What are you doing?" She asked him with a raised eye brow.

"Writing your name on the cup." He stated as he quickly scribbled on the plain white cup. When he was done, he walked back up to the register and handed the cup to her. "Here ya go!" He chirped as he began punching in the numbers on the register.

Curious, she raised the cup up to her eye level, then scrunched her face up in annoyance.

"What's this?" She questioned angrily as she turned the cup around for him to read what he wrote.

"Um...your name?" He answered honestly, unsure as to why she was upset at the fact.

"No it's not." She hissed at him. "My name is Rachael. You wrote Rae! See?" She shoved the cup in his face, making him take a small step back.

Now it was his turn to be annoyed. "Yes,

I can see. I'm the one who wrote it, aren't I?" He said sarcastically and pushed the cup out of his face. "Rae is short for Rachael. Didn't you know that?"

"Of course I know that!" She defended. "I just don't like it. My name is Rachael. That's what is on my birth certificate. That is how I introduce myself. Which is why I want to be called by my name, not some shortened version of it!"

She was the red faced one today, but out of anger.

"Well sorry I didn't know it was so important for you to have your full name written on a disposable cup!" He retorted, his voice rising up a notch.

"Well why even write my name on it in the first place? It's not like anyone else ordered English Breakfast tea!" She challenged, her voice also rising in anger.

"Because management told me I had to, okay? I was just doing my job!" He said, lowing his voice as they were starting to form an unwanted audience. Rachael seemed to take the hint, and started taking deep breaths to calm herself down.

"Well fine, but if you must write my name on the cup, could you at least use my full name." She reasoned with him.

"Which is?" He teased.

"Ugh! Just write Rachael next time!" She yelled as she stormed out of the shop with her tea in hand.

Logan grinned evilly as an idea began to take root into his devilish mind. This was going to be fun.

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 **Author's Notes: Yay! Chapter four is officially up and running! Don't worry kiddies, chapter five is already in the works. Remember to leave a review, so I know people are still enjoying the story! Thank you all so much! :)**


	5. Chapter 5

Rachael sat in her usual corner, reading a book and taking a long slip of her hot tea. She sat the cup back down on the table and went back to her book, but not before she glared daggers at the innocent cup. For written on it with bold, black letters was today's twisted version of the nickname a certain male idiot insisted on using. Rae-bear. Just looking at the word was enough to send her over the edge. She daydreamed about tossing the putrid cup at his stupid blonde head. She relished in the idea of him yelping as the hot liquid burned his fair skin.

Okay, so maybe she was over reacting just a bit.

As she continued to let her mind drift to the bain of her existence, said man couldn't stop stealing glances in her direction. When they weren't arguing or teasing one another, he would often find himself admiring the young women. Who could blame him?

She was successful, intelligent, witty, and to be honest...smoking hot. Though she dressed modestly, he still noticed how incredibly shaped her body was. She had the perfect hourglass figure, with gorgeous legs to match. Her rump and breasts were round and although not huge, they were hardly assets to complain about. She was short, but he liked short. He himself wasn't exactly towering over everyone he met. He sometimes found himself wondering how'd she fit in his arms.

His ogling was soon interrupted when she looked up from her book to glance around the café. Instantly, he looked down and kept himself busy with wiping down the counter. This wasn't the first time he had almost been caught drooling over the women. Ever since she first floated into the small café and into his dull life, he had been entranced with her. He would pretend to be wiping the counter or a dish, while stealing glances at her whenever she buried her nose in her book. Honestly, he had no clue why he was so interested in the women. She was hot-headed, stubborn, prudish, and reclusive. She wasn't exactly his type either.

Short, black hair, pale skin, almost gothic in nature. Nope, not his pick of the crop. However, she did have this...natural beauty to her. The way her raven-black hair highlighted her pale skin and made her dazzling, dark-blue eyes pop was very alluring. She did have an attitude problem, but for some odd reason that just captivated him more. He had loads of fun messing with her, but he could never shake the curiosity that gnawed on him like a dog to a bone. Why was she the way she was?

The sudden movement in the far corner of the shop brought his attention back to reality. He watched as she packed up her belongings and threw away her cup. He inwardly chuckled at the disdain she showed the paper product. All because of that silly rendition of her name. Man, she made it too easy sometimes. As she walked past him, she gave him the darkest glare she could muster, which only made him smile more as his eyes followed her out the door. Their little game was fun, but he decided he was ready to start engaging with this mysterious woman on a more personal level.

 _"Time to find out what makes that clock tick."_ He thought to himself as a plan began to form in his mischievous little mind.

 **The following morning...**

Ding!

At the sound of the bell, Logan looked up from the back of the shop where he was preparing the morning brew. He was surprised to see the women who had invaded his mind, stepping into the café at this early hour. He couldn't help but notice how beautiful she looked in that purple turtleneck and long black leggings that hugged her thighs and rear perfectly.

"Rachael?" He questioned as he made his way up to the register where she was waiting for him. "Whatcha doing here this early in the morning?"

She glared at him, but he could tell it was half-hearted. Almost as if she was trying to be annoyed at the cheery man.

"Have class. Had to stay up late studying. Need caffeine." Her voice was low, and stern. Realization hit him when he noticed the large book bag on her back and the dark bags under her eyes.

He gave her a sympathetic grin. "Say no more! Your heroic barista is here to save the day!" He puffed out his chest and flexed his arms in an attempt to look stronger and manlier.

Rachael scoffed at him and rolled her eyes. She muttered something about him only being a hero in his dreams.

Logan made his way to the back counter and began making her tea. He thought about making a joke about how this was the first time he's seen her drink English Breakfast, during breakfast, but he chooses better of it. If he wanted his master plan to succeed he needed her to be in a good mood. At least, better than usual.

He poured the hot water into the paper cup, adding the tea bag, then placed the lid over the steaming brew. He pulled out his marker and glanced up to see if she was watching him. Lucky for him, she was too tired to care about their little charade this morning, and her eyes were closed and her head in her hands as she used her elbows to lean against the counter. The sight of her falling asleep at the register was quite hilarious to say the least.

Looking back down at the cup in his hand, he took the liberty of writing down what he wanted, then moseyed on over to the register. He admired her for a moment more, not use to being able to study her so close, before he smiled cheekily and slammed the cup onto the counter.

Rachael jolted awake at the sudden noise. She looked around sleepily, muttering something that sounded like equations, then landed her eyes back on the blonde man in front of her.

"That will be $1.50, Rachael." The man chirped.

Rachael studied him closely, her eyes narrowed and an eyebrow raised. "What, no silly nickname today?"

The man shook his head. "Nope! Not today. I can tell you had a rough night and well...I'm not a complete jerk. Unlike some people." He teased her, throwing off her suspicions.

She rolled her eyes and handed him the money. Then with a quick good-bye, she headed out the door. She sipped on tea, ignoring the burning it caused her tongue and instead allowing the steaming, brown liquid to work its magic. By the time she arrived in class, she felt rejuvenated and functional. Taking her seat at her desk against the windows of the classroom, she sat her cup down and began pulling out the items she would need from her book bag.

She pulled out a textbook, a notebook, and a pen. She sat her things down on the desk and opened up her notebook to last week's notes. It was then that she saw it, scribbled in his unique and sloppy hand writing. Not a pet name this time, but a question.

 _ **Favorite book?**_

For such a simply question, it really did throw her for a loop. The rest of her time in class was spent pondering this one, simple question. _"Why did he ask me that? It's none of his business. Why would he care what my favorite book is? Does he even like books? I bet if I told him, he'd have no idea what it is. He's probably never read more than Harry Potter."_

After class she had work, but even as she tried to use her job to forget about the man's unusual question, she could not keep her mind from wandering into that direction. After work, she had reached her decision. She hiked over the little tea and coffee shop, and when she came in, she was not surprised to see Logan standing there with an innocent smiling spread across his face.

"Well hello again, Rachael!" He greeted kindly. "Shall I get you your usual?"

She stared at him pointedly for a moment, before giving him a curt nod. He took his cue, and headed for the back to begin making her order. She leaned on the counter and drummed her fingers against the wooden frame. Her eyes landed on the tip jar that was resting off to the side. Clearly, he was trying not to be too obvious about accepting tips. Which was a bit odd for someone she assumed made minimum wage.

 _"Maybe he needs a tip on how to collect more tips?"_

She inwardly laughed at her own joke. Then it dawned on. The tip jar...

"Here ya go, Rae!"

The perky voice of Logan snapped her away from her thoughts.

"It's Rachael." She mumbled back instantly. She paid for her tea, then walked over to her usual spot in the darkest corner in the café. When she sat, and made herself comfortable, she twisted the paper cup in her hand and read the words that were scribbled on it.

 _ **Favorite book?**_

Wow. He really wanted to know, huh? Well then so be it. She pulled out her notebook from her book bag and her pen.

Logan watched her from the safety of counter. His breath hitched when he saw her turn the cup in her hand. He was pleasantly surprised to find her pulling out some paper and a pen, and watched as she wrote something down. It only took her a few moments, before she ripped the page out of the notebook and folded it up into a little square. She then wrote something else on the top of the folded piece of paper.

He rose an eyebrow at her as she stood up and walked over to the register. He thought she was going to try and hand him the note, but instead she dropped it into his tip jar and then walked back to her seat. This time, his eyes didn't follow her. They were too busy staring at the jar. Was he supposed to wait to read it later or was he meant to read it now? His natural curiosity led him to the latter.

He went up to the jar, and cautiously reached his hand in the jar and pulled out the little note. He read the top, which had the word "tip" written on it in girly, cursive handwriting. He looked over at the women, who was blatantly ignoring him with the help of her book. With a false sense of security, Logan unfolded the note and hungrily read each word.

 _Dear Logan,_

 _Here's a tip. If you want to know my favorite book, you should ask me in person, instead of writing it down on my cup. If you must know, my favorite book is "The Dragon Knight" by Drake Daniels. Although, I wouldn't expect you to know what that is, let alone why it is my favorite._

 _Best regards,_

 _Rachael_

The young blonde man couldn't believe his luck. She responded to him. Now, it was time for the real fun to begin.

* * *

 **Author's Notes: Thanks to all who reviewed so far! I always appreciate the feedback! I forgot to mention this, but I included a little "Easter Egg" in the last chapter for my good friend, Golem XIV. It was a shout out to his one-shot, "The Muffin." If you haven't read it,I highly recommend you do! In this chapter, I included an "Easter Egg." This time, it's for my other good friend, Bearhow! If you've read his stories, you'll know what the "Easter Egg" was. If you missed it, go read some of his stories, then come back here and see if you find it. ;)**

 **As always, please leave a review! They keep me motivated, so keep up the great work! :)**


	6. Chapter 6

The fresh steam of the brown liquid brushed against her full, dark lips as she pressed them over the small slit of the plastic lid that covered her paper cup. She sucked in a deep sip of the bitter and hot liquid, allowing the warmth of the liquid to soak her tongue. She scrunched up her face slightly as the bitter taste touched her taste buds. If only she had some honey.

When she finished her sip, she sat the cup back down on the table. She glanced down at the words scribbled onto it, and a slight smile danced on her lips.

 _Favorite tea?_

She looked away from the cup toward the piece of paper that sat in front of her. She easily wrote down the answer to his question using her pen.

 _Earl Gray. Bet you wouldn't have guessed that._

She tapped the cap end of her pen on her chin in thought. When the right words popped into her head, she quickly added them to the paper. Once she had completed her task, she folded the piece of paper in neat rectangles until the 8 by 11 inch paper transformed into a 2 by 2 inch square. She wrote the word "tip" in capital letters, then after grabbing her things, walked it over to the front counter of the café, and dropped it in the clear, glass tip jar. With a small smile and a nod to the barista behind the counter, she turned on her heel and left the shop.

The barista waited for her to leave before reaching his hand into the small jar and pulling out the tiny note. He unfolded it and read the note in his head.

 _Earl Gray. Bet you wouldn't have guessed that. My turn, what is your favorite snack?_

The question put a ridiculous grin on his face as he shoved the note in the pocket of his apron for safekeeping. This has been their game for almost a month now, the going back and forth with questions and answers. It was like a weird version of 20 Questions. For whatever reason, Logan found it much easier to talk to her through a marker and a paper cup, then face-to-face. The argued too much when they spoke directly to each other. Using this new method of communication, they were able to carry on a civilized conversation without screaming in each other's face, even if that conversation consisted of one or two sentences at a time.

 _Three weeks ago, after the first note:_

 _ **Dragons huh?**_

 _Yes, dragons. I happen to like dragons._

 _ **Eh, not a fan.**_

 _Then what is your favorite book, pray tell?_

 _ **Define book?**_

 _Ugh. Forget I asked. How about this, what is your favorite color?_

 _ **Green! Your's?**_

 _Purple. You ask the next question._

 _ **Favorite hobby?**_

 _Reading. Your's?_

 _ **Video games. Favorite holiday?**_

 _Christmas. I like tradition, generally nicer people, and the food._

 _ **Haha! Halloween! Free candy!**_

 _You can get candy on Christmas too, you know._

This is how the conversation went. Easy questions, easy answers. Now if only he could have a speak conversation with the mysterious women without putting his foot in his mouth. See that was the hard part. Every time they tried speaking face to face, he would always manage to say the wrong thing, which would have either her storming out of the café or taking a punch back at him. The latter always resulting in a fight between the two. The notes were helping, each day he learned more and more about her, but he was an extrovert and extroverts needed in-person conversations.

The next day, he found himself day dreaming of varies ways a one-on-one conversation would go for him. He was drying off a ceramic cup, while stealing glances at the women of his thoughts. She was hunched over slightly, her medium length black locks falling in her face. She had another one of her books in her hand, though he could not make out the title. He admired the way her face reacted to the events of her story. If it were a pleasant scene, he would notice the edge of her lips twitch upward. If it were a somber scene, she would allow her lips to fall into a frown. He has even caught her stifling a laugh before. Boy was her laugh the greatest sound he had ever heard. He had dreams of being the reason he would hear that laugh again. The memory made him subconsciously smile. When her arm moved to pick up her drink and bring it to her lips, he quickly ducked down and focused on the cup in his hands. Last thing he wanted was to be caught ogling her. He knew there was only one way to convince her to spend some alone time with him, but he found that requesting for such an activity was more difficult than anything else he had ever done before.

 _Ding!_

Logan's head snapped up at the sound of the shop door opening up. He watched as a beautiful, young woman entered the small café. She had long, straight blonde hair the hung down past her shoulders. Her skin was nicely tanned and her thin build showed evidence of her athleticism. She had on skin-tight jeans and a loose baggy shirt that hung over her tight tank top, which hugged her nicely shaped breasts. For someone who was the exact opposite as the girl he was crushing on, he was oddly attracted to this new costumer. Naturally, Logan flashed the fellow blonde one of his signature smiles before meeting her at the register to take her order.

She batted her crystal blue eyes at him and leaned her chest against the counter. Her flirtatious actions made the young man sweat with nerviness as he tried to find his voice.

"Uh…Welcome to Dayton Café! How…um…how may I help you?" He stuttered out feeling like an idiot.

The women let out a hearty laugh at his expense. "Seriously? How may I help you?" She mocked him, making him pout slightly. "What is this McDonald's? Come on you can do better than that."

He stared at her for a moment, deciding if he should be offended or give in ti her request. Upon closer inspection, he saw a bright smile on her round face, and an amused sparkle in her eyes, indicating she had no ill intentions. His smile returned as he decided to play along.

"Good evening, ma'am, and welcome –"

"Stop!" She interrupted him and through up her hand making the stop motion.

"What'd I do this time?" He asked confused.

"You called me ma'am." She said with disgust. "Ma'am is for moms and old ladies. Now try again."

He gave her a confused look. "Well, what am I supposed to call strangers, hum?"

"Anything but ma'am." She teased.

"Fine!" He said with a huff. "Welcome to Dayton Café, all powerful blonde goddess!" He exclaimed with great exaggeration as he waved his hand in the air.

The women gave another body-shaking laugh, and this time he joined her. While the two shared in their humorous exchange, neither one noticed the dirty look being sent their way from a certain miffed patron.

Over in her corner, Rachael sat cross-legged with her book closed and set off to the side. She was leaning forward, straining to overhear the conversation that was taking place across from her. Her fingers drummed against the tabletop beside her book and drink. Ever since that caked-faced blonde came strutting in, she had a terrible burning sensation in the pit of her stomach. She wanted to continue her reading, but she found all of her attention now glued to this stranger and her interactions with a particular barista. She watched in horror as this sleazy woman shamelessly flung herself at the man. She wished she could hear what the two were saying, but unfortunately, the sounds of the other costumers polluted her hearing.

She had honestly been enjoying their little game. The notes, while sometimes unwanted, were always fun to answer. She had never met someone so interested in herself before. The very idea made her blush and feel butterflies in her stomach. She could feel herself beginning to slowly open up to the jokester, and it both worried and excited her. However, now she sat on the sidelines and witnessed the man she was just starting to like, give this newcomer the same kind of attention that once belonged to her and her alone. It was a combination of infuriating, depressing, and embarrassing. Here she thought she was someone special to this man, but as she watched him flirt back with the tall blonde, she realized she was nothing more than a pawn in his twisted game.

Not being able to stomach more of the scene, she hastily collected her belongings and scurried out of the shop. As she passed the man, who had made brief eye contact with her seconds before she reached the door, she could not hide her emotions from him anymore. With one final look, she opened the door and left the café for good.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** **Sorry for the wait! I decided to take this in a different direction than originally intended, so it took me some time to put together the final two chapters. There will be one more chapter of this story, so stay with me! I may also include an epilogue later on. Anyway, thanks for your patience and please leave a review! Those are always appreciated! :)**


	7. Chapter 7

Logan stared at the front door. The world around him froze as his gaze fell to the last spot he had seen her, before she ran out of the shop without looking back. He had seen her leave the café countless times before, sometimes angry and sometimes pleasant, but he had never seen her leave in the matter of which she did just moments ago. She was hurt. He saw it in those deep blue pools of her eyes. She was normally impossible to read, but this time, he could practically feel the pain that reflected from those pools. The worst part was, he felt responsible for it all.

"Um, hello? Earth to barista? You still there blondy?" The women in front of him began waving her hand in his face, snapping him out of his thoughts.

"Huh? What?" He asked as he shook his head to clear his mind.

"I told you I wanted a mocha latte and you just sort of…zoned out there." The women slid her arm closer to him, and brushed her fingers against the bare skin of his arm. Instantly, he jerked his arm away from the women's touch, as if he was just burned.

"Mocha latte. Coming up." He spat at her, then turned and walked over to the brewing machines, ignoring the insulting expression the women gave him. He prepared her drink as quickly as he could, making sure to put the liquid in a to-go cup. He did not even bother to write her name on the cup, not that he even knew what it was. Instead, he handed her the plain cup, charged her for her order, and did not even stay long enough to watch her leave.

How could he have been so stupid? Here he was, crushing on this girl on one side of the room, while allowing another girl to shamelessly flirt with him on the other. Not the best way to have a girl notice you, that's for sure. As he began to wallow in his own self-pity, he noticed a very familiar item left in a very special spot. Stepping out from behind the counter, he made his way over to that spot and picked up the item with his hands. A shimmer of hope shined though him as he realized what this meant. She was coming back. She had to come back. It would be his chance to explain himself and finally make his move. His mood made a complete 360ᵒ as he walked back behind the counter with the item in tow. His dream was still possible, and he owed it all to this little purse.

Rachael could not believe she was actually going back there. Her heartbreak she had experienced was still raw, so returning to the source of her pain was not ideal. However, the need for her purse and the wallet inside of it outweighed her personal reluctance. As she walked down the city street that led to the café, she began to take notice of the hour. It was after nine in the evening, and she was sure the shop was closed by now. She had walked all this way (from her apartment five blocks away), just to have to return empty handed. Today was just not her day. She decided to finish her trek anyway, hoping that by some miracle he would still be there.

As she walked up to the shop, she could still make out the soft glow of the inside lights and the silhouette of the young man that worked there. He was sweeping the floorboards, swaying back and worth as he moved gracefully across the floor. The sight was almost endearing, until she remembered what that same man did to her not five hours earlier.

She pulled down her shirt, flattened her black leggings, and fixed her hair. She put up her mental walls and forced herself to be as hard as stone. Once she was ready, she pulled open the door to the café, surprised that it had been left unlocked. The sound of the tiny bell brought the man's attention to her. He awkwardly moved toward the counter, where he had an iPod and speaker set up playing a song she had never heard before. He laid the broom stick against the counter's edge and fiddled with the device, causing it to turn off. He then looked back to her with a sheepish grin, and began rubbing the back of his neck anxiously.

"Um, uh, hey there Rae, I – "

"-chael." She growled at him.

"What?"

"My name is Rae-chael, not Rae, not Rae-Rae, not Rae-bear, it's Rachael."

"Uh, oh right. Uh…sorry Rae, I mean Rachael." He stuttered out.

"I came back, because I left my purse here. Did you happen to see it?" She asked him in her usual gravelly voice.

He nodded his head. "Yeah I saw it. Just one second, I put it behind the counter so no one would take it." He explained as he scrambled behind the counter. Rachael folded her arms over her chest as she waited for him to return with her purse. She looked around the café, now completely deserted with the chairs stacked on the tables and the floor swept. For the first time, she observed the minimal lighting of the café, and noted the near romantic ambience it gave. With her looking around, she hardly noticed him return with her purse tucked safely under his arm.

"Alright Rachael," His sudden voice made her jump, but he did not notice. "I have your purse, but before I give it back and you run out of here for good, I just wanted to apologize for what happened today." He looked her in the eye and watched for her reaction.

Her face broke into a scowl. "I don't know what you're talking about." She denied.

He was a bit taken back by this, but then again, he should not be surprised she was trying to hold on to her pride. "Look, I just wanted you to know that the girl that came in today, she made to first move. I wasn't trying to flirt back either, I was just trying to be friendly, but I know it probably looked bad so I am really, really sorry."

She had never known Logan to be the apologetic type. His normal smug demeanor had finally faltered, and now he was practically begging for her forgiveness. The only question is why?

"While I appreciate your apology, I do not see how it is necessary. You are a young, single adult male who can engage in any activities you wish to partake in. It's not like I am your girlfriend or something."

Her last comment surprised both of them, and now they stood awkwardly in the empty shop, starring at each other unsure of what to say next. Un able to handle the silence any longer, the man let out a sigh as he leaned against the wooden counter. "I suppose you're right. We aren't dating, are we?" It was a facetious question, but she still felt her head nod, confirming his statement. There was a strange feeling of regret bubbling up inside of her, but she did her best to suppress it. "This might sound crazy, and I doubt it will change anything, but I need to at least get this off my chest before you go."

He turned to face her, but she could not meet in intense blue gaze. Instead her eyes fell to the floor as he spoke. "I like you, Rachael."

His confession hit her like a ton of bricks, but she simply stayed as still and emotionless as a statue as she waited for him to continue.

"From the moment, you first walked into the café I knew I found you attractive." She blushed at his comment, but stayed silent. "Then I'm not going to lie, you came off as rude at first, but for some reason I found it fun to mess with you a bit. I never meant for your feeling to get hurt, I just wanted to have some fun with you is all. And when we started our little game with the notes, and I learned more about you, I realized all I wanted…all I want now, is to learn every little thing about you. You're like a puzzle I can't walk away from." He paused for a moment to gage her reaction to his confession. She was still avoiding his gaze, but her face had turned red from her incontrollable blush. He took his chance, and stepped forward so that their bodies were only inches from each other. He took her hands in his, forcing her to look up at him. He met those eyes before, but never this close. He just noticed the dark, violet hues that mixed with the dark blue of her irises. Those big, wide eyes that made her all the more beautiful, were like little orbs that held all the answers he was looking for. It donned on him that he could easily spend the rest of his life searching those eyes.

"I know you're mad at me. I know you probably hate me right now. I'm not going to ask you to forgive me. All I ask, is that you give me a chance to make it up to you. I'm not finished with our game yet."

And there it was, the irreplaceable, extraordinary, classic Logan smile. Rachael felt her heart beat race, her legs grow wobbly, and her palms start to sweat. She had spent all her life living in the background. She was the quiet, anti-social, plain women that no one bothered knowing. She used to be okay with that, heck she had preferred it. Now, however, she had a taste of what being cared about was like, and she became addicted to the feeling. Sure, this man could irate her to know end, but it was worth if it meant he cared. That someone out there genuinely cared.

Then she remembered what the cost of caring was - hurting. If she allowed herself to care for this man, what guarantee would she have that he would not hurt her like he did earlier today? What if she were the one to hurt him? Everything has a price, including love. Could she really afford the chance of heart break? Was the payment worth the gain in return?

When she looked into his sparkling eyes, and saw the pure and raw emotions that shined through them, she thought she knew her answer.

"May I have my purse."

The line came out before she could even register what she had just said. She fell into autopilot, which meant not allowing herself to crash, even if she wanted to. The man blinked at her, his smile falling into a frown that could make the most innocent person feel guilty. He released her hands, much to her disappointment, and walked back over to the counter where he had laid down the purse. His hand shook as he reached over to grab the small bag. He slid it close to him, then shut his eyes, holding back his tears. She wanted to correct herself, to admit she had fallen for him as well and that she would happily accept his request, but as per usual she was her own worst enemy. She waited for him to lift the purse and hand it to her, but he never moved. Instead, he held on to that silly bag as if it were the most precious object in his life. Then his head shook and his voice came out horse, but firm.

"No."

It was her turn to appear confused. "I'm sorry?" She questioned him.

He shook his head again. "You can have your purse back, but on one condition."

She felt her mouth go dry and her eyes widen in anticipation. He relaxed his grip on the purse, and used his free hand to grab his iPod that sat mounted on the speaker. He tapped the screen a few times before setting the small device back on the speaker. Then he turned to her, and walked up to her with an outstretched hand.

"We dance." He said, as he took her right hand in his left, and wrapped his right arm around her waist, pulling her close. She stood rigid at first, shocked and unsure of how to respond to this change in development, but as he gently rocked their bodies to the rhythm of the melody, she found herself melting in his arms.

She slowly raised her right arm, and wrapped it over his neck, running her fingers through the short blonde hairs on the back of his head. She then laid her head gently against his shoulder and in the nook of his neck. She could feel him smile and lean his head close to her's. Their feet stepped in small circles as they swayed to the song.

" _And up until now I had sworn to myself / that I'm content with loneliness / because none of it was ever worth the risk / but you are the only exception."_

She listened to the words, absorbing their meaning and allowing a contempt smile to grace her lips. What she was feeling now, was surreal. She decided then and there, that she would head the words of the song, and enjoy her only exception.

" _You are the only exception / And I'm on my way to believing / Oh, and I'm on my way to believing."_

As the music began to fade, they continued to move across the floor, neither willing to move from their close contact.

"So, Rachael, what do you say? Will you go out with me?" He whispered into her ear.

"Hum…on one condition." She whispered back. He grinned at her.

"Anything."

She lifted her head, looked him in the eye, and said with a smirk. "You buy me some honey."

He laughed thoughtfully at her demand, and hugged her closer, still swaying to the imaginary beat.

"I'll see what I can do."

* * *

 **Author's Notes: Well that's a wrap! I know, this is the longest chapter yet! The song featured in this chapter is titled, "The Only Exception" by Paramore. I recommend listening to this song while you read the dancing scene. It's my favorite song and I always imagine Gar and Raven dancing to it. I can not be more excited to have reached my goal of completing a multific by the end of the summer. I am just beyond ecstatic! I want to thank everyone who reviewed this story in its entirety! Your reviews kept me going and were a major factor in allowing me to achieve my goal. I would also like to thank my friends Golem and Bearhow for their endless support throughout this project. Both are amazing author's who I highly recommend to anyone looking for quality fanfiction. I would like to take this opportunity to make a plug for my next project in collaboration with Bearhow tilted, "Every King Needs a Queen." We are keeping the major details under wraps, but I can say it will include my OC Arella Logan (daughter of Gar and Raven) and Bearhow's OC Landon (King of Hell). It will be filled with action, romance, angst, and adventure! So be on the look out for that one! As always I ask that you leave a review. This is how I know you liked the story or not. Remember you can review each chapter individually, so if you haven't done so already, please review each chapter. I love hearing from you guys, so please send me your feedback. You have all been wonderful and I thank you so much for the support! If you guys are really nice, I may also include an epilogue later on. ;)**

 **Until next time,**

 **jhwlgh**

 **P.S. I have changed my name on Tumblr to Lou Buggins. If you have a Tumblr, I would love to have you follow me! You will see exclusive posts and drabbles that I did not post on this site. Also, I will try to change my name on here as well. So, if you see work from Lou Buggins (or LB for short), that is written by me. ;)**


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